ELDER ABUSE ABUSE
A SCREENPLAY
in TWENTY ACTS
and FORTY-EIGHT SCENES
Whichever Comes First
Ext. Day. Chris's House--
FBI Agents come to the door. Organ music plays in the background. The LEAD AGENT, 44, has a jaw and looks like a combination of Topher Grace. CHRIS, 50, has blue eyes of steel and the laugh of a paralyzed donkey.
CHRIS (opens door): Yes?
LEAD AGENT (flashes badge): Good afternoon, Mr... (beat) Johnson. We have reports you do more than just bake cookies here.
CHRIS: Huh?
LEAD AGENT (mouth full of meal): I mean, we have reports you renovated your mother's house while she stayed here. Is that correct?
CHRIS: Yes.
LEAD AGENT: And that you fed her, bathed her, organized her life, took care of her dog and cat, measured dog penises, checked diaper dampness, and many other duties great and small?
CHRIS: Say, what's this all about?
LEAD AGENT: And during that time were you curt with your mother?
CHRIS: What?
LEAD AGENT: Short. Sassy. Rude.
CHRIS (shrugs): I only meant it with love.
LEAD AGENT: All right, smart guy, you're under arrest!!
CHRIS: B-b-but...!
LEAD AGENT (slams CHRIS hard as an anaconda drops from the ceiling): Shut it! You've been mean and you're going to jail.
CHRIS: Wh-what am I charged with?
LEAD AGENT: Elder abuse!
CHRIS: Oh my. Well, I hope there won't be any gun play.
LEAD AGENT: Let's go. And, yes (bored), we'll keep guns in holsters blah blah.
CUT TO:
INT. COURTROOM. MOM, 79, at the PROSECUTOR'S table. GREG, 55(!), smirking in the background. CHRIS on the witness stand. He's being grilled by a hard as nails PROSECUTOR, 32, who is drop dead gorgeous and takes no guff, the battle axe. The BAILIFF, 12, is very young.
PROSECUTOR: Tell me, did you take a tone with your mother when you asked her if she had finished her turkey sandwich?
CHRIS: No. I just asked her if she was done. I mean, she had taken only a few bites and then it sat there on her plate for an hour.
PROSECUTOR: Are you giving me a tone right now?
CHRIS (smiles): My dear, you are a financial genius.
PROSECUTOR: Let the record show that the witness gratuitously quotes Cookies and Tarts, to everyone's great annoyance.
JUDGE, 104 (dying): Ehngnn.
PROSPECTOR: No gold here, your honor. I have nothing further. Your witness.
Confused silence. Everyone looks around. Finally, GREG stands up. He's tall, drop dead gorgeous, sporting a bitten steel cleft chin and a take no prisoners with nonsense attitude.
GREG AS LAW-TALKIN' GUY: Okay, I move that we have a continuance, per habeas corpus and nolo contendere duel carburetors.
JUDGE (undead): Gaahhhr.
GREG (hooks finger in collar): Tough crowd. Anyhoo, I call a policeman to the witness stand, something I once saw on the Mentalist. (Looks around for validation.) Yes? Anyone?
POLICE OFFICER, 3, (having body switched with his FATHER, 36) crawls to the stand: Bah bah boo boo?
GREG: You don't look like a cop.
POLICE OFFICER (coolly): I work vice.
GREG (winks): You've come to the right place. Heh. So can you tell the court how said plaintiff's house looked after all the renovation work had been done?
POLICE OFFICER (takes out pacifier): Indubitably. Let Exhibit A be entered.
The courtroom admires the large blown-up photo on the easel.
PROSECUTOR: I object!
BAILIFF: Shaddup.
GREG: And then what happened?
POLICE OFFICER: I took this photo of the house.
GREG (pacing): I see. And when did you take said picture? A year later? A month...?
POLICE OFFICER (hesitates): Er... Um... Baba booey.
GREG: Let me remind you are under oath, sir, and in danger of a time out!
POLICE OFFICER: I took the photo... five minutes later.
The courtroom explodes in murmurs and gasps. The JUDGE bangs his gavel.
JUDGE: Order! Order!
PROSECUTOR (emotional, the old battle ax weeping): Let me remind everyone that... that our mothers won't be around forever. Boo hoo.
ALL (shouts): Yes!
MOM (standing): Shh!
CHRIS: Sure sure sure.
GREG: Let the court now have a dramatic finish. May the bailiff bring in the doggie!
The courtroom turns around and gets a crick in its neck. The BAILIFF cradles a dog. He places the dog in MOM's lap.
MOM: Oh!
GREG: Your new dog, Mom. Boobie.
MOM: Aw, what a sweet boy. Whatta boy! (The dog is blind in one eye, drools, limps, farts.) I'll love you forever, Boobie. (Turns to the JUDGE) Okay, I drop my lawsuit.
ALL (erupting): Hurrah! Nothing ever changes!
GREG (drinks coffee as courtroom empties out, credits roll): Well, we laugh now, but this could happen to all of us someday.
CHRIS: Not Dad.
GREG: Dad? Why not?
CHRIS: Let's just say I have a feeling he won't be needing any assisted living. Heh heh.
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